


"NEVER. THE WRONG. ANSWER."

by KaleidoscopeMind



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Fantastic Racism, Gen, Punching, friends in low places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 11:56:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12630540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaleidoscopeMind/pseuds/KaleidoscopeMind
Summary: Based on a short story challenge prompt "Punching a nazi is never wrong." I know there aren't Nazis in Dragon Age, but the game has never sugarcoated the fact that racism is a VERY real and ugly reality of the world. Elves in particular get the worst of it, especially in Origins where this scene takes place.Rated M for language, some fighting and mature themes. This will likely be edited more, so consider it a work in progress. Also, while I don't suggest punching nazis (or the "alt-right") in real life, I do support standing up to their poisonous idiocy in every way possible. Be an ally, educate yourself, and make a safe place in any way you can to the people who need it. Just like Red Jenny here.Enough soapboxing. Lets get to the punching.





	"NEVER. THE WRONG. ANSWER."

When Alistair and company had arrived in Denerim that morning, he had been optimistic. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, nobody had attempted to murder them on the road, and even Sten had been in a good mood for once. He had high hopes for the day.

But by noontime everything had changed. The sister he had longed to meet was a bitter shell of a woman who blamed him for the death of someone he had never met ("As if there wasn't enough of that going around" he lamented), the armorsmiths gatekeeping lover had banned them from business due to repeated 'distractions', and the sunny skies had given way to clouds and frigid rain. Things were going so badly that Zevran had stopped flirting or cracking jokes with every other breath, which Alistair had genuinely thought impossible.

And then it got worse. Because Alistair and company had made one final error in judgement: Bringing Chandran Mahariel, one of the proudest elves in Thedas, into a city where Elf was a bad word. 

"Let the Dread Wolf take that black hearted bitch." Chandran patted the depressed Alistair on the shoulder. "She may have been blood, but she was never family. I know it's not the same, but-"

The conversation was interrupted by a trio of individuals stumbling drunk from the Inn they had left a few minutes before; one of them bumped Chandran hard enough to knock him off his feet.

"Watch where yer goin' y' worthless knife-ear." one of the group spit as his friends laughed and sneered at Chandran. They started to walk away as Chandran stood back up, and both Alistair and Zevran cringed as they knew it was about to get ugly.

Chandran's body glowed green, and soon the trio gasped in shock as he appeared in front of them, blocking their collective path. He looked at the speaker in particular, a young brash nobleman so drunk he was practically being carried by his equally besotted peers.

"Say that to my face like a man you dickless, soulless waste of your mothers womb."

"What'd you say to me?" Both the speaker and his friends were now, perhaps understandably, quite angered by this turn of events.

"The truth." Chandran stepped forward, eyes locked on the mouthy speaker as he steps within swinging range, lifting his chin in challenge. The young man angrily swung and missed, bringing himself into the range of Chandrans fist. Blood, along with at least one tooth, arc'd through the air as the man was knocked out cold with one uppercut to the face. 

"Apostate!" One of the remaining friends drew a dagger he had hidden up his sleeve, oblivious to the fact his other ally was fleeing in fear; Anyone had the courage to be a bigot when surrounded by like minded company, but few had the gall to back up their hate while standing alone. As he advanced, Alistair stepped forward, putting himself bodily in between Chandran and the bigot. Zevran moved to guard Chandrans back, literally in this case. 

"Yer standin' up for that.. knife-earred tattooed tosser? Why?" the drunk man points at both versions of Chandran he sees. "They're just thievesh tryin' to take our money."

"Riiight, right." Alistair nods. "Because nothing says 'luxurious accomodations' like an Alienage. Come for the crippling poverty, stay for the purges and a nice bowl of rat and cabbage stew. That is, if you haven't died of plague by suppertime." 

"Are you...Are you taking the piss?" the guy asked. 

"Oh nooo, not at all." Alistair shakes his head in refusal. "I mean, why would I ever make fun of someone who's clearly an expert on elven economics? In fact!" He claps his hands once. "You can show my friends and I where their people are keeping all this money they've been stealing! Lead the way!"

The man stammers, but even as drunk as he was he knew he was had. But what really drove the point home was Chandran fade stepping in front of Alistair, swinging his head forward and headbutting the bigot hard enough to knock him out. 

"..I get it, but was that really wise?" Alistair asks. Chandran turns on him with a glare that could strip the blight out of an ogre from fifty meters off.

"Confronting my peoples oppressors will NEVER be the wrong answer."

"Yeah, but-"

"NEVER. THE WRONG. ANSWER."

"Ehmm.. Gentlemen?" Zevrans words catch their attention. "I think this matter would be best debated elsewhere. Incoming, six o'clock." Alistair and Chandran turn to see the coward returning with a group of guards, pointing at Chandran in particular.

At that point they hear a small whistle originating from the open doorway of a seemingly abandoned hovel. 

"Pssst. Yeah, you lot." A girls voice, child or maybe preteen. "'round the corner, door with the knotholes that look like ditties. Red Jenny's got your back."

As the guards begin to call for their surrender the three round the corner and follow the directions of the hidden voice. And together they waited out the storm, grateful for the aid of hidden allies. The world had been an ugly and unkind place to all of them, but each one knew they would be alright as long as they had each other.


End file.
